Holding My Heart

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Ann’s POV

I had just spent hours trying to get the taste of William’s blood out of my mouth. It was nasty. Not to mention I got stuck with William’s memories. Ugh! I shudder at the thought.

So currently I am lying on Brendon’s bed. He is next to me stroking my side. One thing, he isn’t talking to me. I wasn’t talking to him. I was too scared to. Well, not true. What can you say? I mean I stabbed the guy.

“It’s in the past now.”

What? Okay. He’s insane. I stabbed him and he’s cool with it? What the fuck? I hate guys. I really do. They make no sense at all. Or maybe it was Brendon who is like this. I don’t know but it’s killing me.

I stopped his hand. Hey, I can move again! I sat up and felt really dizzy. Never mind moving. I laid back down and Brendon scooted closer. I looked over at him, “You’re not going to kill me are you?”

He shook his head, “No. I told you I wouldn’t.”

Don’t give me that look. Please don’t give me that look. Aww come on! I hate that look. Its one of those looks that makes you regret whatever you did, Kinda like the puppy eyed look. I hate Pete’s the most.

He looked so sad! I almost wanted to hug him. I can’t say sorry. I really can’t. He killed my parents. His eyes dropped from me and he looked away from me, “Why can’t you look past that?”

“Why can’t you get over her?”

“I asked you first.”

I sneered and he smiled slightly. I sighed and looked for answer, “I guess I don’t get over it because it was the most dramatic thing to happen in my life. I lost all the people I loved and cared about. I couldn’t do anything about it. It was ripped from me.”

“Exactly. Same thing happened to me.”

He glared at me. He was right. He did lose everyone. Well, except William. He still had him. Though that’s not exactly the best thing. He lost a whole town and he probably knew everyone.

So I’m supposed to take pity on him?

He killed my parents and that’s all I need to worry about. And I’m being mean? Hell yea! This fucker didn’t have to ruin my life. Am I being selfish? Fuck yes. And I don’t care what he thinks.

He got up and started to pace. He was fuming. I was fuming. He went and picked up the bench at the vanity table. Oh shit. He chucked it across the room with a “Grraaaah”(Sorry Shyla, but I love it too much!). Which, I’m sure was not a human sound. It smashed into about forty pieces.

He turned to me, “Why do I fucking love you?! You’re such a…”

He stopped himself and looked away. I was going to open my mouth but I decided to keep it shut. I didn’t want him any angrier. He ran his hand through his hair and tugged on the ends. He started to growl in frustration. I had a feeling he was going to snap. And snap very soon.

He went over to the vanity table and knocked it over sending the mirror to the floor and breaking. He kicked at it and I almost expected him to stomp on the mirror. I sat up and swung my legs over the edge. I pushed off the bed and walked over to him.

He was glaring at the sight in front of him and I walked in front of him. I gulped and I reached up to touch him. He flinched but let me cup his cheek. I stepped closer and his eyes closed. Now I was risking my life but at the moment I think he just needed to calm down.

I slid my hand down and let it rest on his chest. No heart beat. I knew that. Though I was hoping. Yea I know for nothing but a girl can wish! I slide my hand back up and up to the back of his head. I pulled his head closer and placed my lips against his.

I didn’t want to let go of my past but maybe it was time to do so. Brendon has tried to be nice. I’ll give him that. I’m hard to please. So the fact that he can get me to laugh is something.

I pulled away and his eyes were still closed, “You are different.”

“I know.”

“I think I like you better.”

“Suck up.”

“No,” He opened his eyes, “I moved on.”

“It’s takes time to move on…”

He smiled, “I’ve had plenty of that.”

“Wanna know something?”

“Hmmm.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic sometimes.”

He gave me a confused look, “Ok then. Well, I'm not hopeless. I have hope but the other end never seems to give in.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

“Well, excuse me for not being easy.”

“Not easy? You can sure as hell say that again!”

I rolled my eyes, “Whatever.”
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